[center][h3][color=004b80]Locke Bahadur[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=004b80][b]"Yes, you could say I have a master of sorts." [/b][/color] An officer ordering him to things was pretty much a master, except generally Locke chose whether to follow those orders. He hadn't seen a reason not to, as his orders were just and noble. Greg led him to a tall male and a woman with considerable assets, and seeing how the woman seemed to be questioning the man about Lyla, Locke assumed this was Greg's master. However, before he could even say anything about the matter, another man interrupted the conversation. Really, it seemed nothing could go the way Locke expected. 

[color=1a7b30] [b]"Would like join eating prime rib? Lyla is little girl who gets lost. After food, I find her. Come if like, or stay with Greg."[/b][/color]

Eating food while a young girl was out on the streets, who could possibly be kidnapped at any moment, seemed idiotic to Locke, though the British hadn't really shown much wit to begin with. But that woman and Greg seemed to be his best bet at finding Lyla, and possibly answers to that branding of hers, seeing how they knew her best.

[color=004b80][b]"I graciously accept your invitation.. Madame."[/b][/color]

Locke entered the Cabaret Voltaire, only to find there was a slave bidding of sorts. The British did indeed love their slaves, despite their so called civilized society. And they were bidding on... Ms.Lyla. How the girl got herself into this predicament would have to be a question for later. Locke would have to act before money exchanged hands, as money seemed to be another thing the British obsessed over, and fighting them over it was something he wanted to avoid.

[color=004b80]"[b]I hate to interrupt your bidding war, but that girl up there is not yours to sell.[/b]"[/color]